That Hysterical Unreliable Organ
by E.J. Cady
Summary: Pam's boss drags the marketing mind along to help spy on his boyfriend since he suspects him of cheating. As his unwilling date she plasters a smile on her face consoled that it's only one Friday out of her life...she hopes.
1. Chapter 1

Multi chapter one shot, don't forget to check out my profile page. Enjoy the fic.

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Russell Edgington was a dark haired menace that paraded through the walls of his firm eying every hopeful that he could crush underfoot. His employees called it prowling and in a faithful sense of the word it was true, but it was only because he could. He passed closed doors of his offices and strolled through the aisles of cubicles everyone looking committed to their jobs clicking away on their keyboards. He entertained playing with one of the interns having had the pleasure of making a strapping six foot red head named Cliff cry once. It was talked about for a month until Cliff couldn't take it anymore and left and the gossip sated the boss long enough for everyone to go to work without being under the radar of their boss's petty indulgences.

In his grey tailor suit he stalked aimlessly hoping to be inspired and driven to torment someone because he was compelled to do so, not because in a frustrated moment he chose someone at random to hurt. It was a reckless way to wreck havoc and he loved to ruin someone's day in a structured way to be able to recollect every detail late that evening when loneliness creeps up and snags him and he forgets that being popular with money doesn't guarantee all the creature comforts.

"You look up to no good," he heard someone say as he admired the pecks protruding from a typist that was he vaguely recalled of Arabian descent.

Her vanilla blouse hung off her body loosely, but there was much to admire with what was hidden underneath. Her charcoal gray pants hugged her body and he looked around the room to see quite a few eyes went up to admire her sauntering into her domain. Admiring the backside of the associate that caught his attention he followed her into her office sitting in the corner of his couch slamming the door for dramatic effect.

Pam raised a brow at the door then her mischievous boss, who smiled unapologetically at the whispers stirring outside. As if they didn't have anything better to do than wait for him to make someone else cry or ruin one of his most cherished employees day.

"For effect," he shrugged crossing his legs to excuse the slammed door. His checkered socks showed.

Her office was decorated with pastel colors and glass accents that were most multicolored globes he found himself admiring every time Russell had time to visit. They were made by a local artist whom she adored. Though, the name wasn't memorable enough to remember.

"You're making them paranoid."

"They work better that way I read it in an article."

"Seriously Russell, so soon after the intern incident."

His excitement grew and leaned forward on his knee, "is that what they're calling it?"

"You're an executive," she reminds him in a sing song fashion looking over her emails on her laptop. "Act like it."

"Pam I think you are dangerously close to being too conservative for your own good. Have a little fun. Have mind blowing unsafe sex and contract an STD, not a serious one, the kind that goes away after a couple days when it you put a little cream on it or swallow a pill."

The blond haired woman leaned back in her chair examining her boss with a bemused grin, "I'll find another replacement for you at the Kids Camp this summer. You're going through something and I forbid you to be around people."

He considered, "is it that obvious?"

She nodded her head slowly, "Raphael won't return my calls. I think he's seeing someone new."

"Are you two exclusive?" Pam had a feeling she already knew the answer when she asked the internet mogul.

Pursing his lips he grabbed one of her glass globes feeling her eyes boring into his with annoyance. She hated when people touched her things. He began playing with them admitting slowly, "we aren't, but at the very least he should have the courtesy of telling me who else he's seeing."

"Why?"

Russell clutched the globe, "because," he started and ended leaving that as his best argument. He came in totally unprepared to defend his childishness.

"Call him," she stated leaning back to her desk to finish sorting through her emails. It didn't matter if Russell, her boss, was the one distracting her. Pam was responsible for her productivity for the day. She would prefer it to be done well before the eight because she promised her parents she'd make an appearance before nine.

"You call him."

The woman snorted clicking with away at the options on her screen glancing at her boss, "I'm not sleeping with him."

"How do I know?" Russell stated petulantly.

"You won't know anything if you don't call him."

Russell pulled out his phone unlocking it scrolling down his contacts until he found Raphael's number, "act like my secretary."

Pam acknowledged his request with an annoyed glare. "No."

"Act like my secretary or you're fired," he threatened speedily as the phone rang on speaker. She hoped it went to voicemail to save her the humiliation of doing what he told her. Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.

A male voice with a pleasant Hispanic accent answered, "hello, who is this?"

"I'm…I'm calling on behalf of Russell Edgington," she refused to call her his secretary. "I want to make sure at that your reservations at the Willows can be confirmed for Friday night."

"The Willows," the Hispanic man repeated, "That sounds expensive," he whistled like the words had been meant for someone else.

Pam looked up at a smug Russell who'd written the name down a sticky not passing her notes to follow word for word.

"Could you tell him I won't be able to attend," he answered slowly and unsurely sounding more like a man undecided rather than someone who was sure they didn't want to be treated for an evening.

A cloud darkened Russell's face and in hopes of salvaging the conversation Pam steered it to another night, any night he was available. To which Raphael answered in a vague way that his schedule was full and that Russell should call him if he wanted to set up a date properly. He bid her a goodbye right after he wished a good day.

"What the hell was that?" he began pacing furiously.

The blond marketing director shrugged, "you should call him yourself next time," she slides Russell back his phone. Her boss seemed unusually preoccupied one man when he'd been known to entertain several at a time. Open relationships were brought up in conversation to safeguard himself from his wandering eyes that often gets him into trouble. Her boss was incorrigible, but she adored him when he wasn't hiding away in her office or using her staff as an emotional punching bag because he was feeling down.

"Obviously he's sleeping with someone else."

Pam shook her head her elbows on her desk with her hands clasped together half praying half begging, "I beg you if you go down this road don't involve me in any of your schemes."

His eyes widened, "that hurts," he pressed a hand to his heart where his ring finger sat on his hand staring back at her and she knew that he would find a way to involve her. "Does he sound like he's interested?"

"He doesn't sound like he's not interested," she shrugged.

Russell thought this over. Today was Wednesday with plenty of time between now and Friday to get answer or even better plenty of time to volunteer someone to go to this infamous Loft Party Raphael would be attending instead of dinner with him. Then it came to him, "what are you doing Friday?"

"What did I just get finished saying?" she shouldn't be surprised when he was notorious for his selective hearing and worst his memory.

"I heard you," he reassured with a charming smile that won her over every time. Because he wasn't just her boss who held her future in his hands he was a manipulative friend and beyond that smile there was a fate worse than death and she wanted it to have nothing to do with her promising career in marketing.

"Fine," she sighed.

"Great," as if he had a doubt she wouldn't come, "I'll have a dress sent over later this evening and we can go back and forth until I convince you it's the very thing you should be wearing for Friday."

"Oh, how considerate."

Russell chuckled evilly, "the genius is I give you the impression you have a choice in the matter," he paused for the great reveal, "when that's not the case at all."

"Go figure," she forced a smile between clenched teeth not up for a wardrobe debate with her boss, but she'd get to the hurdle when she needed to. For now, she had four hours left in her day with very little time to get everything done before she left for her parent's dinner party.

When Russell left her office he had a spring in his step and her personal assistant popped her head in to make sure there wasn't bloodshed that needed mopping.

"You need a drink?" she heard her assistant ask.

Pam shook her head giving an amused look to her impeccably dressed blond right arm in a black polka dot skirt and great cardigan, "no I'm fine."

Sookie looked behind her taking sit before Pam suggested she take one, "trouble in paradise with the model?" she gushed, "no wonder he's raising hell."

"He's being a child who's missing the attention of his favorite toy. I don't want to know what's going on and I don't want to talk about it," she tried to end the conversation there.

Sookie wasn't easily dissuaded, "but," she put up an obstinate hand pointing out one vital detail, "you are going with him Friday so you'll have the opportunity to do the office a favor."

Pam knew she shouldn't ask, "what's that?"

"Get him laid," the younger woman told the middle aged mentor whom she loved to work for. Pam was a portrait of poise and style with a shrewd intellectual mind that she envied because it wasn't in her to be that single-minded to one task right now. She was young and there were men to enjoy and a life to live outside of work a pleasurable fact her boss forgot regularly.


	2. Chapter 2

"You're late," were the first words that greeted her when she entered her parent's home forty minutes later than she promised. Bending down to kiss the shorter woman on the cheek she ignored her mother's mood determined to get through the evening. Her mother perused her outfit and to distract her Pam commented on a pearl necklace her mother wore.

"I haven't seen this in a while. What's the occasion?"

Her mother's hands went straight to the pearls. Diana shook her head her blond hair shifting on her shoulders with a vague shrug, "no reason."

They strode through the foyer to the dining room where everyone smiled greeting the last to arrive without the same irritation Pam's mother greeted her with. She rounded the table sharing and receiving hugs and kisses from her two sisters and their husband's and her adorable niece, who just turned nine. The women of her family all took after their mother mostly with blond hair and blue eyes along with the same shape noses. They were only two years apart and almost identical side by side. Pam was the only one that inherited their father's height while that seemed to be the recessive gene in her two older siblings whose head came just to her shoulders.

"You work too hard," her father, Jerry, embraced her gesturing to the seat he saved especially for her at his right.

Her career ambitions were admirable when she was younger now creeping to her mid thirties he wondered when she would have time for something like settling down. It was comforting to know there was someone out there thinking about you or someone waiting at home whom you get to share the bed with. Pam didn't have that, at least not to his knowledge, and he wished it for her.

Kissing the wrinkles of worry from her father's forehead she dismissed his worry knowing it came from a warm place.

The conversation continued where it began after she joined her family. Her oldest sister Janet was a outspoken school teacher disgruntled in every aspect of the job she claimed to love. She'd always have a new story about her students or educational policy that either entertained or inspired debate. Some families had game nights her family was more interested in conversations that compelled—it was the way they were raised with two political writers as parents.

Nancy the second oldest leaned in her husband stroking his arm using it as a ploy to read his text messages. They were an especially volatile couple and while the dynamics of their relationship in theory shouldn't work somehow they lasted seven years together. Pam remembered her sister claiming she spent too much time on his phone and not enough interacting with her. It was easy to take her sister's side when she painted herself as the victim and her husband as the inattentive jerk who can't put his phone down long enough to tend to his wife. But, Pam also had the added knowledge that her sister could be needy. As the middle child she craved attention going so far as to demand it or manipulate it when she didn't get what she wanted.

It felt good to be around her around her family, but when the night ended with the residual effects of a heated debate dissipating on her drive home when she sat in her driveway of her Atlanta townhome she contemplated her life. She wasn't in a hurry to go inside, but the pull of a warm bath was too much to resist after a long day of being the woman who has all the answers. She did have all the answers or she'd find a way to get them, but at home when she unwound there were no monikers to call her by. This was her sanctuary where she ate, slept, occasionally watched television and fondled herself because it was too much of a hassle to find someone to do it for her.

"Alright," she breathed opening her door to end her day with a relaxing and uneventful evening.

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Where had the week gone she wondered from her desk? Sookie with her legs crossed in a pant suit smiled at her while swinging her foot watching her knowingly.

"I saw the dress," she teased.

Pam determined to finish her memo wouldn't be distracted by her secretaries playfulness.

"And for a gay guy I think Russell was thinking all kinds of naughty things when he chose it for you."

The sounds of the keys answered her.

Undeterred the blond admired her boss's pale milky skin from her pink sheer blouse. "Every man and woman with a pulse is going to notice you on his arm. With that said. I amend my statement from before."

Pam didn't move her eyes from the screen still typing, "if you amend it will this be that last time you bring up tonight or that piece of cloth he has a nerve to call a dress?"

"In the event that Russell's boy toy had moved on to greener pastures," Sookie began, "I think it's perfectly acceptable if you get laid."

A blond brow rose in question, "are you giving me your permission?"

"I am giving you my blessing." She sandwiched her mouth with curved hands still speaking at a normal volume, "it would be a shame to waste the dress."

"We're going to a gay loft party," Pam finished her document saved it and then sent it to her secretaries email ready to put her to work. "I sent you the file I want it printed and sent out to the rest of the department by the end of the day."

Sookie checked her watch, "it's four forty five," she complained.

"Then you better get to work," she smiled evilly watching the young woman hurry to her desk to complete her task it was a Friday and no one would think twice about leaving early with their workload finished.

Pinching the bridge of her nose she knew exactly what time it was dreading the night ahead. There were several ways this party could end and Russell being the habitual drama queen he is promised to make it a memorable evening if not all together disastrous. Swiveling in her chair she entered her attached bathroom with the infamous 'dress' hanging up. Putting her hands on her hips she reached for it stroking the soft material. She liked the cut and the design, but she preferred it on someone else. She wasn't as conservative as some women, but Russell liked to push her to her limits purposefully. This was the second dress she chose. It was a compromise in a battle of wills Russell would always have the upper hand in because he was her boss. She had to let him win—at least he didn't want to sleep with her.

Grabbing it off the hook she draped it delicately over her arm procuring the keys to her pragmatic Nissan.

She strode through the gauntlet of her underlings acknowledged by some and ignored by other and haunted by the only one who felt comfortable enough to text her before the elevators doors opened:

_I want to know everything!_

Blue eyes narrowed at the playful smile dancing on Sookie's mouth kindly texting back

_There won't be anything to tell. Have a good weekend. _

When the door opened she stepped inside greeted by the welcoming smile of her employer. She plastered on of her own to hide the reflexive grimace as he reminded her of the night she'd been roped in and the dress she would be wearing throughout it all.

"Just the woman I came to see," he claimed her free arm wrapping his arm around it. "I'm forever grateful for you doing this you know that right?"

"Don't make statements you're not going to deliver on," the blond stated meaningfully.

Russell was in a position of power which rarely demanded he give. But he took, sometimes abused, and claimed whatever he wanted, but for the most part in Pam's condition it was always time. Perhaps she gave the impression she didn't have a life. Or maybe he thought she ran her department so effortlessly he trusted that a little time with him wouldn't hurt her work ethic. Russell couldn't give her back her time or her night so maybe in his mind with hints from her he could meet her halfway with a raise.

Lost in her thoughts she didn't notice they were going up until her absent gaze at the numbers became a alert perception.

"Where are we going?"

"Everything's set up in the office," he stated vaguely with a shadow of a smile that read as mischief looking back at her from the door's reflection.

What had she gotten herself into?


	3. Chapter 3

After being attacked by Russell's team of beautician's Pam barely recognized herself. Her hair was over her shoulders after a debate of what would look best with the strapless dress. It barely reached mid thigh swing loosely when she moved and rising whenever she bent or sat.

"You look delicious," Russell admired taking her hand when she emerged from the back of the black Mercedes while his driver held the door open for them both.

"Thanks," she stated not knowing if she meant it. Her face felt heavy her considering what she was wearing she might as well be wearing a night slip for all the good it did covering her up. She hoped she didn't see anyone she knew. It would be one of the worst things then again if she barely recognized herself in the mirror she doubted any of her usual crowd would either. She felt extravagant and not in the Cinderella arriving to the ball type of way. Everything felt overdone like she was Russell's walking statement of sexuality and she didn't much like the moniker of a walking billboard.

"An hour tops," she stated when they were in the elevator ascending to the loft and the loud music that practically shook the building.

Russell paid her no mind, "how do I look?" he asked from the other side of the elevator.

She examined his outfit. He wore a black pin stripe suit with a loud yellow shirt and a bow tie that may or may not have been over doing it with yellow shoes to finish it. He looked like a well dressed gay man. "Fine."

"Bitch, no one looks fine in anything this expensive," he smirked refusing to believe that he looked 'fine' his whole suit was well over a thousand dollars.

She revisited the topic of time, "an hour Russell."

"We're on a mission Pamela," he scolded, "How can you put time constraints on something this important."

"Because your overreacting," it was common knowledge the on again and off again couple would continue their push and pull because they'd been doing it for the last three years without fail. They both enjoyed the hardships in a relationship feeding off the negative energy to create something unhealthy and fitting for their personalities.

"Showtime," he hummed taking her hand as they walked into the party.

Pam's heels would have been loud on the hardwood floor if the music was pounding loudly. Russell and Pam had to be the most expensively dressed couple there. It made her feel like a neon sign in the middle of the room when she felt eyes staring at her. How had she gotten herself roped into this? Easy, Russell was her boss and he hated being said no to and she enjoyed her job. One night out of character wouldn't kill her she reached for a glass of champagne on a passing tray. At least she could drink until it numbed her reticence.

Raphael spotted them immediately, but he didn't take the initiative to go over and welcome them especially since they were crashing the party. Russell noticed this eying the chocolate skinned man at his side with flirtatious brown eyes rolling his over Raphael appreciatively.

"Who the fuck is that?" Russell asked aloud with the audacity to look to Pam as if she knew.

She sipped her champagne meeting his gaze bored. The bar beckoned her and as if he read her mind Russell grabbed her hand and lead them over to the complimentary pair Raphael with his 200 watt smile and rugged good looks and this chocolate Adonis, a stranger, on practically on his arm.

"Wonderful party," Russell became the third wheel in the conversation and Pam the involuntary fourth even though he dropped her hand. She milled around the trio never going too far, but her body language made it clear she wanted nothing to do with Russell.

"Raphael introduce me to your friends," the dark skinned man suggested aware of Pam's presence, but his focus was unwaveringly on Russell.

The man stuck in the middle introduced Russell leaving his title as friend. Russell didn't bother to introduce Pam. But, before he could make a comment Raphael's companion moved closer to the blond nursing a second glass of champagne. "I'm Lafayette," he reached out his hand to introduce himself, "and you are?"

"Pam."

"Well Pam I think Russell and Raph might want some privacy how bout I introduce you to a few people," he lead the way and Pam followed receiving a curious, but pleased glance from her boss.

"That's a beautiful dress you're wearing," he stated.

"Not by choice," she confessed when they were safely outside enjoying the evening breeze in May.

"Roped into an undercover operation?"

"Something like that."

"Girl, me too."

This information won her curiosity, "what do you mean?"

"Getting his rich boyfriend all hot and bothered enough to pop the question," he confessed conspiratorially.

Pam almost spit out her champagne catching herself, "Russell Edgington?"

"The one and only," brown eyes traced the crowd noticing them talking where Pam and he left them. "He wants the ring, the house, the furry little dog to carry around in a bag," Lafayette explained.

"From Russell?" the blond statement was full of disbelief.

"Raphael was a only child and the real world hasn't caught up with him enough to school him on that well known fact, we can't get everything we want. But I applaud him on trying."

"So you're not dating him. He's not cheating," even though she didn't believe one can cheat in an open relationship, "on Russell with you?"

"Raphael's sexy, but he's not really my type," the dark skinned man stroked his throat as he perused the talent. "I go for men, strong, hard…" he stopped forgetting his company before reigning in his excitement, "men and Raphael's a little too…delicate for my tastes." Leaning on a railing he took her in from head to toe, "so, what do you like what's your type?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Lafayette was enjoying this, "you know exactly what I mean Pam. Men, women, both?"

"I like who fits my mood at the time," she said honestly.

Lafayette ready with a reply was interrupted by a commotion inside. Pam fully expected to turn and see Russell and Raphael in a effeminate slap boxing bout. Her cheeks reddened preparing for the embarrassment of the scene she was sure was play out. Instead she was surprised to see two women one tall and one short ripping at each other and with hands clenched into fists in their hair trying to rip hair real and fake out. The crowd parted partly aghast and entirely transfixed on the duo as they tumbled to the ground. A dark skinned woman who looked more amused than worried headed outside where Lafayette and Pam stood taking a seat outside pushing the table until she was balancing on the back legs lighting her cigarette.

"Poetry in motion," she murmured as smoke rose from her mouth.

Lafayette pursed his lips disapprovingly, "if either one of those bitches fuck up my furniture it's your ass."

Tara laughed, "I didn't tell them to go Raw in the middle of your party." She genuinely didn't believe that she should be penalized for their actions.

"I'd like to throw a party that didn't involve calling the police. "

"Don't call the police," she visibly winced when a light skin contender who she met at some gay bar landed a fist to the other woman's jaw. "Damn."

Pam glanced from the fight to the remorseless woman whom she could only assume the fight was over via the conversation Lafayette was having with her.

"Feel free to end this at any time," Lafayette said with restrained rage.

Dropping on all four she stepped to the railing inches from where Pam stood. Purposefully she invaded the blond woman's space using her half smoked cigarette as an excuse when she flicked it over the edge. Speculative blue met mirthful brown and there was something that she immediately liked about them.

"I'm Tara," she leaned on the railing the two women forgotten.

This was customarily where Pam would politely give her name and delve into a light conversation to get a feel of a new prospect. Though in any other circumstance she didn't look like this and probably wouldn't have attracted Tara's attention in her normal blouse and skirt or slacks. The conservative girl was always looked over and the louder women who barely wore clothes, like the kind of woman Russell dressed her up as, attracted a certain type of predator she wasn't sure she wanted to involve herself with. Then Sookie's words rang in her voice as she transformed for a few moments into the type of woman that would wear this dress—the type of woman who would say yes to trouble. She didn't imagine a woman who knew the whole world wanted her would make it easy so Pam imagined the whole world wanted her and introduced her as, "I'm out of your league."


	4. Chapter 4

It was her smile and the twinkle in her eyes that alerted Pamela to her misstep. Tara's demeanor didn't deflate in fact her chin rose and her back straightened becoming confidant. Unsure of how to act Pamela turned away, slowly so as not to seem startled by the transformation, she turned to the two quarreling women who were pulled apart and now yelling at each other. She still felt the chocolate skinned woman's eyes on her, but she refused to give the woman the satisfaction of meeting her gaze again.

Lafayette began snapping his fingers to get Tara's attention, "you got bitches to tend to. Are you going to handle it?" Lafayette yelled.

"Yea yea yea," she stated pushing off the railing sending one last glance at Pam before she began cleaning up her mess.

"Damn," Lafayette huffed moving his gaze away from his cousin to the beautiful woman who looked all too curious. "Don't go there," he warned.

Pam gave the chocolate skinned man a sly look, "why not?"

"Girl, you ain't ready," she slipped one hand into his pocket while flipped through his phone with the other hand.

"How do you know I'm not in the mood for trouble?"

Lafayette sighed staring at her with disbelief, "you see two bitches in a brawl and that's not enough of a warning to stay the hell away from cuz?"

"I'm not them."

"There you are," Russell acted as if he'd been looking for her longer than he actually had. "Where have you been?" he asked with Raphael in tow, but he didn't wait for answer, "you know I think I'm going to call it a night. Not to say that this wasn't entertaining," he courteously rushed directing the comment to Lafayette, "I especially loved the floor show," he laughed at his own joke. "You can get home fine can't you?"

It seemed whatever was wrong was worked out for now. In Pam's opinion he gave up way too easy especially if he wanted to hog tie someone like Russell Edgington into marriage. Though, the younger man looked assured and this was none of her concern. It looked like Sookie would get her wish after all for him—she on the other hand had a date with a cab then her bed.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, "go on," she encouraged.

When they left she stayed for two more drinks one with Lafayette and then the other alone looking over the city with roaming eyes drinking in the view. It was beautiful she mused thinking that Tara would show up after she ended up dropping the women off outside. She'd seen them go down with Russell and Raphael. Enough time passed for her to return. But, when she realized how foolish she was acting daydreaming about someone she wouldn't normally enjoy as a person.

Finding her host she bid him goodnight. Lafayette offered to walk her down, but she insisted that he stay and enjoy his partner which he ended up doing when she wouldn't hear of him leaving because of her. The lonely ride to the elevator gave her plenty of time to analyze her job, her boss, and her evening which she had resigned would end famously with her in bed and drifting into a dreamscape.

Emerging from the building she was immediately caught off balance when she saw a yellow cab leaving the curb at the blessing of the woman Lafayette claimed was his cousin, the troublemaker.

"Wha— that's my cab…what are you doing? That's my cab!"

"There's thousands of cabs in this city," straightening her back Tara turned on her heel with a mock look of sympathy, "I didn't think you'd mind, my friend needed it more than you did," she lied.

Pam glared at Tara's back as the woman began walking down the sidewalk.

"Where you going?" she stood her ground yelling.

The retreating figure stopped walking and met the blond woman's cool gaze.

"You're going to leave me here stranded?"

Tara laughed, "you know that wasn't the last cab in the city, get another one out here."

For reasons that Pam didn't quite comprehend she didn't want it to be that easy. Tara may not have known it was Pam specifically who called for the ride, but she stolen something and without regard for the consequences was ready to walk away. She didn't know her and her actions were completely reckless from the moment she met her and the two women fighting upstairs should have been warning enough to keep away, but the eyes still drew her in.

"No, it wasn't but it was mine. And you stole it. Now, you make it up to me," her hand rested on her hip in a stance of impatience.

"Anybody ever tell you never to talk to strangers that way," Tara closed the distance between them.

"You've got a car or something right?"

Brown eyes flicked over her curiously, "or something," she admitted.

"Take me home," Pam husked with an air of defiance to her.

"Say please."

"Say sorry."

Hands pushed into her pockets Tara wasn't sure what this woman's problem was with her, but she didn't mind it. When she saw the leggy, top heavy, blond beauty she saw a woman to be conquered, if only for one night. She hadn't had a worthy challenge in a long time, but this nameless fiery blond incited an attitude to try or at least sparked some curiosity as to what other surprises she had in store for Tara.

Nodding over her shoulder she pointed to a black jeep hitting her keyless lock to unlock it. The chirping and the flashing lights alerted blue eyes to the medium sized vehicle.

"You'll accept rides from strangers, but you won't be nice to them?"

"You're not a stranger Tara," this was the first time she used the woman's name aloud. She liked it and Tara liked her saying it, "I know everything about you," the blond continued cockily.

Intrigued she didn't let their topic of conversation die on the street where it began. Inside the confines of her jeep with a list of general directions to follow supplied by the blond whose name still escaped her Tara asked her what she meant. And in response she was given a basic rundown of her habits, the reasons for those habits, and ultimately why Pam wouldn't give her the time of day.

"You're that certain?" the dark haired woman was completely aroused, but her words and her movements remained deliberate as she maneuvered the streets. "I can be pretty persuasive when I want," she warned.

Pam graced her with an indulgent smile that masked the excitement jumping in her veins. Her eyes took in the lights of the city until they were no longer in the heart of downtown as they traveled to the perimeter where she stayed. The lull in conversation wasn't uncomfortable as both women were retracing their steps that lead them to tonight. And the ending, which was still unwritten, looked promising with the potential they both sensed in their chemistry.

"So," Pam out of curiosity began, "who were those women?"

"Mistakes," Tara answered immediately the side of her mouth rising in a smirk when she briefly took her eyes off the road as she spoke.

"You make a lot of those?"

"When I'm drunk and trying to get laid, it happens. I forget how desirable I am and women just get obsessed with me."

"And you like it."

"I'm not going to say it doesn't stroke my ego," she shrugged, "but sometimes it gets out of hand on inopportune occasions."

"Like tonight," Pam stated.

"Like tonight," Tara confirmed with a wry laugh.

After a pause Pam replied with a dry inflection, "What's so special about you?"

"I don't know you well enough to tell you all my secrets," she put her foot on the breaking and turning on her right turning signal. Tara stopped at a gas station offering ninety nine cent 20oz slurpies, "you want something?" the driver asked as she got out.

Pam shook her head no. Tara nodded her head before she closed the door and headed inside to pay for thirty dollars worth of gas. She flinched at the bright halogen lights scrunching her eyes into squints and covering them with her hand too distracted to notice that everything about the sleepy gas station wasn't all together alright. The clerk behind the counter stood erect and worried sweating bullets with a white plastic fan plugged and directly on him.

She asked for her gas pulling out her bills separating her hundreds absently until she found a fifty and handed it to him. When he didn't reach for it and her eyes adjusted to the light she finally looked up at him and a faint scent of fear hinted to a trouble she hadn't initially sensed.

A gun cocked right beside her ear leveled at her temple.

"Give me the cash bitch," the only other person stood with greasy locks and a beard covering most of his face with the collar of his snug fitting denim jacket pulled up and resting on his chin.

"Bitch?" Tara looked around the rest of the empty story until it dawned on her, "you mean me?"

Exasperated, "this is a gun, that's my money now, hand it over," he ordered her slowly.

"You're going to shoot me if I don't?"

"That's how this goes," he began bouncing from one foot to the other like he needed to relieve himself.

Tara eyed his dance amusingly, "I don't believe you."

"What?"

"Shoot him first," she nodded to the clerk.

"What the fuck?" he screamed, "give me the fucking money!"

"Waving a gun and yelling doesn't scare me because I believe you're just waving it around for show—I don't think it's even loaded," she added to gloat. "But I'll believe it if you shoot him," she finished as a matter of factly.

"You're fucking nuts."

"Shoot him," Tara leveled her eyes on the man hiding behind the glock.


	5. Chapter 5

Tara would have dared him again if the bell for another customer hadn't rang above.

"What's taking so long?" Pam asked from the other side of the dark skinned woman still holding her bills. Blue eyes looked worriedly at the clerk who looked pale and when she looked at the third person, really looked at him she knew why.

Surprised by Pam he took a step back feeling the control a gun's supposed to provide slipping away.

"All I want is to go home with your money so give it to me now!"

"Shoot him," Tara nodded to the clerk stepping away from him slowly to pick up a bag or Oreo's she didn't want. But she wanted his attention away from her companion who stole it when she walked in. He couldn't blame her Tara could hardly keep her eyes off her, but she forced herself to focus.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I was telling," she stopped when she realized that she didn't know his name then continued when she realized he reminded her of Daniel Day Lewis. "I was telling Daniel Day Lewis that I don't believe he's got the guts to pull that trigger."

Pam stared at her in disbelief the bravado of her character fell to the sensible alter ego that ruled her life decisions. What was this woman crazy tempting a man with a gun?

He drew the gun up to Tara's head, "I can just shoot you."

"Where's your killer instinct?" she lowered her voice making sure that his eyes were solely on her. He held the gun trained on her then with quick reflexes confiscated the gun.

When he realized it was gone he was shaken back to life and regarded everyone in store like strangers—as if he were confused on how he came to be there. "On me," she tossed him a bag of Oreos and he slipped out the door with the clerk behind the counter breathing a sigh of relief.

She placed the fifty dollar bill on the counter asking him politely to ring up her gas and to include the bag of Oreos. When the transaction was finished with a receipt crammed into the corner her pants and Pam in tow she began pumping her gas feeling inquisitive blue eyes burning into her.

"What the hell was that?"

Tara met her gaze, "the guy was having a bad day," she assured Pam like he shared his life story with her and suddenly she was sympathetic.

"You could have gotten yourself killed or even worse someone else," she hounded Tara because again she didn't feel like the woman appreciated the magnitude of her actions. "Death," she said, "that doesn't mean anything to you?"

Monitoring her gas meeting Pam's determined look with one that the blond read and immediately falter surprised at the intensity in them, astounded by the glimpse of uncompromising humanity.

"Let's get you home," was all she offered returning the nozzle.

Under Pam's guided discussion they arrived at Pam's townhouse fifteen minutes later safely. Tara didn't stop her engine, but she did get out and open the door for her passenger. Slipping out Pam didn't move away from the open door or the person holding it. Chewing over an idea in her head she finally came out with what she wanted to say, "Pam."

Tara put her full weight on the passenger door waiting for the blond to finish.

"Pamela Swynford De Beaufort," she gave her full name.

"Tara Thornton."

The strangers were strangers no more.

With an outstretched hand Tara sought to complete the ritual and when she clasped Pam's she turned it to plant a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Pam pulled her hand away and started towards the door. Reaching through the passenger side Tara retracted her key from the ignition following behind the woman.

"Telling you my name doesn't guarantee a night in my bed."

Tara took the rejection in stride with a full smile, "what kind of girl do you think I am? I was simply walking you to your door," she explained.

Somehow Pam believed there was more to it, but she didn't press as she found her keys and unlocked. Stepping inside the door she turned and Tara hadn't made a move to follow her inside standing where the blond left her.

"I'm not exactly sure what to call tonight," Tara started jiggling the change in her pocket.

"Interesting," Pam supplied for her, "very interesting."

"Then it's settled, you want to see me again."

Blue eyes narrowed, "I don't think I said those words exactly."

"You don't have to," Tara leaned against the outside part of the door frame studying the molding then letting her gaze land on full red lips. "I can read minds," she said with all seriousness.

"What am I thinking now?"

Tara lowered her gaze certain that the question was said in jest so she didn't intrude respecting the blonds' privacy. Thoughts were sacred, and more often than not extensions of things most people are unable to say aloud and would like to keep internal until they've figured them out enough to put them in words. She wouldn't say at an early age she began to live by code she made for herself—if it she had to put a time frame on it then it would have had to occur when she was a young adult after her first hundred years that she began to take her powers seriously and respect the privacy of others.

"Don't disappoint me now," Pam pressed, "what am I thinking?"

"That it's been a long day and you want to go to bed," Tara stated generically sensing some truth to it by the woman's body language. "It was nice to meet you Pam," the name tasted sweet.

Half behind her door she forced her face to remain impassive even though she was slightly disappointed that would be the end of it. Even though it had only consisted of witty lines, tension, a robbery, and a ride home.

With a retrained wave she drew a hand from her pocket and bid Pam goodnight. When her back was turned she smiled cockily allowing herself the perk of listening to the pounding of the woman's heartbeat. It was a steady beautiful rhythm bringing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata to mind. When she got into the car she sat in the driver's seat dipping her head to look out the passenger's window graced with goodbye and a glimmer of something else she didn't care to put a title on it now. When the door closed she started her engine turning on the radio to her desired station pleasantly surprised to hear the piano keys of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata in C Minor prompting another look at the closed door filling her with a hopefulness that seems naïve to cherish after a fae's first century.


	6. Chapter 6

Pam undressed on the way to the bathroom with clothes leaving a trail of where she'd been in her home. Her shoes lay in the den, the dress dropped to the foot of the stairs panties and bra were discarded at the top just as she flicked the light to the bathroom. She washes her face thoroughly frowning at the layers of makeup Russell's team caked on her face. The image of her boss tied down and married amused her. She didn't think it would happen she even went as far to consider warning him, but that wouldn't nearly be as fun as watching him react to whatever schemes his boyfriend had in store. She read books and heard songs and listened to people that claimed love makes one do strange and curious things. After her nightly ritual she slid into the covers of her bed and as soon as her head hit the pillow she drifted to sleep.

Standing in the center of an empty street in a white slip barefoot and her hair over one shoulder she looks around to see if anyone is around. She calls for help, but she can't yell, her voice is a whisper and suddenly instinctively she knows that standing on the street might not be safest thing for her. She wants to run. Pam sees the building she wants to go inside, but she doesn't run for it because she can't run. Without the ability to run or yell she feels helpless rooted to the spot the sun isn't shining as brightly with clouds looming forward menacingly taking away the comfort of daylight. They form overhead different variations of gray and purple. The rain that she expects doesn't come, but sounds, not those of thunder or lightening, but scratching sounds that surround her and then growls that belong to something that might to hurt her.

With every part of her body working to flee she remains stuck and useless.

The beast reveals itself and the animal's eyes are yellow bulges of rage and its teeth were sharp knifes perfect for ripping skin like it was warm butter. The shape reminded her of a bear on all fours it stalked her with long pointy ears.

It was coming for her, charging her and she could smell the disgusting scent as it came closer. Heart pounding she whispered for help. The beasts' growls drowned it out. She was going to die. Closing her eyes tensing her body to brace for the impact it never came. When she opened them it sat on its haunches watching with an expression of sadness that she wasn't sure she should trust. Taking an unconscious step forward she ran her hand through the fur not yet realizing she could move now.

"What are you?" she whispered.

The beast didn't answer and she knew better than expect it to?

"What's your name?" she asked the second question that came to mind entertaining a name.

"Voss," she whispered with her cheeks flattened by a pillow and the morning's rays filled her room generously with light. It was morning already? It came too soon, she grumbled shielding her head with a blanket she placed over it to give her the illusion of darkness. Her body trained to wake up at a specific time couldn't reconcile a weekend and a weekday. It was a frustrating matter she hoped her body would figure out one day until then she drifted back to sleep with her dream barely a memory in the back of her head.

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Tara lounged on the balcony of her library skimming through the text of a volume. Underneath her Lafayette chose a seat at a table where other books sat opened and save for further perusal. "What do you want?" She didn't look up from her paragraph growing angry at herself for her rustiness. There was a time she could have read it through without hesitation and now she struggled on simple translations.

Lafayette found his nails interesting resting his ankle on his knee as he began, "what happened last night?"

"Plenty."

Brown eyes rose to the second level of Tara's library. The room was square with the walls made of stone and a second level for larger and he supposed older text she didn't want anyone to be able to access as immediately as the book on the second level. Without a ladder reaching the second level would require an agile soul. He hadn't been agile for some years. He didn't need to be they were in the longest season of peace he had ever seen and he was glad to say it made him lazy. The former soldier was tired of war, tired of death, plain tired of the life that felt more like a hell. What was the point of living so long if they couldn't enjoy it? The last war almost did them in, he and his cousin. Lucky, to be alive they chose to distance themselves from their brethren hiding in plain sight impersonating humans. It was harder for Tara to assimilate the first few years, torture does that, every shadow is suspect every smile is dissected words aren't just words they're proclamations of an intention that isn't yet clear. For eight years, most of the war, Tara was behind enemy lines as a spy and then as a prisoner. Many of her people were surprised she lasted as long as she did, but her survival came at a price to her sense of self and her powers.

Lafayette clarified, "what happened between you and the blond."

"Her name's Pam," Tara corrected clenching her jaw as this one word which either meant clever or throne was giving her trouble.

"Did you sleep with her?"

"That's a crude question," she continued to avoid eye contact.

"It's an acceptable theme in this culture," he shrugged, "and we're supposed to be human."

"Supposed to be, but we aren't," she closed the book shut. "I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her."

Lafayette wasn't satisfied, "when you say it like that I don't think I want to trust you."

"Its news to me that you trust me," she rejoined.

"Tara—"

"I didn't," she dropped down into a crouch before standing erect and taller than her sitting cousin. She leaned over the books she saved.

"You don't touch her and you don't see her and you don't talk to her," Tara still wasn't meeting his gaze. "I mean it."

Tara snorted, "are those direct orders from my commanding officer?"

Lafayette bit back his first comment and sighed because he may have overstepped, but just as he had become lazy Tara had become reckless. They were probably due for more discipline then again that would undermine what they were trying to accomplish. They wanted to know if they could be more than soldiers. With no real need to work from their spoils of war they were set for centuries adopting carefree lifestyles that afforded them time to study humans closely and copy them.

"You were my family before you were my subordinate. And family looks after one another especially when stupid ass decisions affect fifty years of peace."

"I don't want to start a war."

"I'd feel much better if heard it directly from your vagina," he returned seriously.

"She doesn't want to start a war either," she smirked.

"Good."

The younger fae considered telling Lafayette about the dreams. They were coming more frequently and even if Tara stayed away from her in reality they were colliding in their dreams. Tara always as the beast and Pam always as the scared woman who can't run eventually figuring out she never needed to. If she shared those he would suggest they leave. Atlanta was a decent sized city with plenty of distractions and she knew he liked it here. So, she kept the dreams to herself with every intention of upholding her promise to stay away from the blond human.

Pam as an idea didn't stand for war to the fae, she thought of a peace beyond the clatter of armor and the spray of blood tainting skin and grass underfoot. Pam was hope, a dangerous ideal that intrigued the fae and scared the hell out of her. Three years in the care of the Electrician and she wondered how she could even understand the concept of hope being plugged into an entire system designed to stimulate every fae synapses unpleasantly. But she felt it. She felt it when she first saw her last night on the balcony and it plagued her enough to send her to his library and search. The dreams she could have lived with, but seeing her, touching her, smelling her rivaled whatever she could have imagined. In the library she hid hoping for answers to vague haunting questions that only took shape when she separated the irrelevant text and the relevant text.

Pam was a key. Her heart began to pound when the words jumped out at her as if they'd plainly said the words, Pam was a key. Though, it wasn't the case because many of these ancient volumes were filled with convoluted meanings written by convoluted elders who wanted to keep the generations after them guessing. Most of the elders were dead now and the ones that were alive wanted nothing to do with her. She was a fae, but tainted by their enemy with scars and incantations written on her body to prove it. Lafayette saved her from the hands of the Electrician and on many nights she woke up soaked in sweat cursing her cousin's loyalty. Her fae brethren didn't accept her they couldn't by the laws that dictated light and dark she was a gray area no one wanted and her cousin, the loyal fool that he was, resigned from a prestigious post so she wouldn't have to exist in that gray area alone. Chasing away the troubling memories of her circumstance she focused on the text again.


	7. Chapter 7

When a week passed without a call or a word from Tara Thornton Pam realized she may not have made the best impression. Then it hit her. They hadn't exchanged numbers and while Tara knew where she lived she didn't expect the woman to pop up and say she'd been thinking about Pam. So, when that first week passed she went about her work with more determination that required it. Unsure of why she was so affected by her not making an effort to call her at all. By the second week Sookie felt it was her duty and detrimental to her health that she take her boss out to loosen up. In the guise of a lunch date she picked at her chicken salad examining her boss with all the causes of the woman's strange behavior running through her head. She was never cruel to any of the workers, but of late she was beginning to be less compromising than her usual self. She demanded perfection regularly, but this new Pam seemed to be obsessed by it.

The interior of the restaurant was stylishly open with windows letting in plenty of light and warm accents of color to contrast with the stark white table covers and crème carpet. At dinner time this place was extremely expensive, but the lunches were more affordable with an exquisite selection of food that Sookie treated herself to whenever she could get a chance and it was one of Pam's favorite places to dine.

"How's your chicken?" Sookie asked as soon as the older woman took a bite.

Covering her mouth with a napkin she chewed nodding her head with a pleasant look, it wasn't bad.

Pleased for her boss, Sookie skewered lettuce sprinkled with cheese and vinaigrette with her fork before placing it in her mouth. She might as well bite the bullet, "I can't figure if you got laid or not."

"Excuse me," Pam frowned.

"That first week you weren't on cloud nine but you were getting there. Then you do a whole 360 on Monday and suddenly we're not working hard enough or good enough. I'm just wondering who got under your skin."

Pam was offended and a bit irritated her mood had been that transparent, "no one."

Her secretary gave her a look of disbelieving. Sookie was aware of almost everything there is to know about this woman being under her employ for two years now. She asked, "Did you, you know."

Pam smirked, "no I didn't."

"But, you met someone," Sookie continued to prod leaning forward on the tabletop with her elbows and her hands clasped together in a begging gesture.

"I met someone," the marketing executive finally admitted to someone.

The waitress refilled their drinks then asked about their meal and if there was anything else she could do for them? Both women shook their heads and the brunette with the long face and large smile went on to find another customer to please.

"There's no one in the world that happy to pour a drink," Sookie glared at her bouncy demeanor remembering her waitress days in college.

"Back to me," Pam continued needing to get the ordeal out of her head and into someone else's to be sure it happened and to confirm her feelings weren't unfounded. "Am I crazy?" she asked at the end of it.

"To expect a call when she didn't get your number?" Sookie considered, "yea." Her eyes veered to a duo staring at them from another table, "sometimes that's how the cookie crumbles," the younger woman shared absently the line of her mouth rising into a smile targeting the two men over her bosses shoulder.

The one with the dark hair raised her drink to her.

"Whenever I need underwhelming advice I know who I can count on," Pam dryly pointed out.

"I'm about to do you a favor," Sookie rose from her sit, "because I love you and I want to see you happy. It's not healthy to pine over what could have been when I'm about to introduce you to your future husband."

"What?" Pam hissed in confusion.

Sookie either didn't hear or didn't care to acknowledge that she heard her when she went directly to the table of two men. Adopting an inconspicuous method of looking at the reflection of the mirror on her phone she noticed Sookie charming the duo until one looked in her direction standing and starting straight for her. Dropping her phone she quelled the urge to roll her eyes and smiled indulgently at the handsome blond whom her secretary sent over.

"I'm Eric," he held out his hand. In a blue business suit a white shirt sans the tie at six foot

Cool eyes looked the pale appendage over as if inspecting it to see if it were clean or not.

"Pamela," she took it giving him her name.

"I know," he admitted, "may I?" he gestured to the seat.

"My friend's sitting there," she said.

Giving her a knowing grin he nodded toward the pair behind them, "it seems she's taken with my partner Bill."

Pam had been set up.

"I see," she droned aggravated. It escaped her that moment why the young woman was even an employee.

Eric took a seat feeling silly standing there. Pam didn't object since Sookie was noticeably distracted and wouldn't be missing her seat any time soon.

"That's a nice name Pamela," he complimented.

She wasn't sure if he expected her to be impressed by his looks alone, because if that was all he had too offer then Sookie had misjudged the basis of her attraction.

"That sounded like a line didn't it?" he called himself out with a charming smile with enough nerve to look embarrassed.

Pam was patiently awaiting the check almost wishing she hadn't sent that girl away the first time. Who knows when she'd return to the table again?

"This is the worst way to meet people isn't it?"

Pam agreed with him on that.

He regaled her with a blind date he had a few weeks ago. The woman was neurotic and obviously wasn't over her last relationship she pulled out a miniature album of their adventures in Thaiwan, Australia and a few other places Eric didn't commit to memory. Pam relaxed and shared a war story of her own if only to compete against his tale because her guy didn't compare to hers. The man had the audacity to answer a phone call from his wife in front of her and claim after the phone call that he believed in full disclosure.

By the end of their show Eric took the initiative and asked her and Sookie out for drinks when they were outside waiting on the valet to bring their cars.

"We'd love to!" Sookie took charge speaking for the both of them and Pam let her because she found Eric to be sincere. And she liked it with her encounter from the week before tucked away in a box in her head of things that could have been, but never did. It wouldn't hurt her to spend time with a well dressed gentleman that filled out a suit the way he did. At least this time she wasn't pretending to be something she wasn't for someone who obviously wasn't interested.


	8. Chapter 8

Tara hunched over rested her hands on her knees watching the stream of blood fall spit it away. A miniature puddle fell to the ground and she smiled at the taste wiping remnants on her chin away meeting the glare of her assailant. "I'm a lover not a fighter," she held her hands up returning to the spot where she was when she was thrown out of the bar.

The fist connected with her stomach and she keeled over again.

"Makes it easy then," she picked her up by her hair and flung her against the wall where she rested her arms on a crate.

He turned his back and returned to the loud music on the other side of the door. She stared at it aimlessly thinking about what she should have done knowing that it would have been unwise. She always lost control when let her anger get the better of her, it was her curse, a forget- me- not from her tormentor of years ago. So she let the six foot four bald punk beat her to pulp because it wouldn't be worth it in the end, over a pair of legs in a mini skirt too, she inwardly shook her head.

Pressing her hands to her pockets for her cell phone, but she felt nothing. Struggling to her feet she staggered around the alley to find it—it must have fallen out during the fight. In a puddle of muck she grimaced looking down at the useless gadget.

"Fuck," she groaned to herself.

Looking around the alley she didn't see anything she wanted to touch to help get out so she kicked it onto drier land touching it with the sleeve of her shirt before she confirmed that it was indeed useless.

"Fuck my life," she said slowly rising to her feet favoring her left side. The discomfort was familiar—that thug may have broken her ribs. She needed to find a fae or at the very least a beer or liquor to numb the pain which ruled out driving tonight. Fortunately, for her there were a string of bars in walking distance and after she had her fill she would mostly likely crash in the driver's seat of her truck.

Staggering out of the alleyway she straightened up her clothes and wiped at her sore face as if it would help her look less like she'd just had a brawl in the alley. It didn't, but most people were either too self absorbed or too drunk to notice, which was fine by her on all counts. Tonight unlike other nights she wasn't interested in being noticed craving the peace of anonymity for the evening. When she found a bar she liked paying extra and after reassuring the bouncer that she wasn't as much as she looked she found a dark little corner she could sit in and drink in peace. Why wasn't she doing this at home? Because she was liable to change her mind and find a distraction for the evening to save her from sleeping in her car, because she planned on getting plastered. A night of drunk sex might hit the spot.

"Keep them coming," she said to the waitress who acknowledged her absently placing the first beer and shot side by side in front of her.

This was going to be a long night. She shifted settling into the cushions of the chair as she listened to the loud pop music and the blurred conversations around her.

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Pam felt beautiful and it wasn't because Eric had been complimenting her all night. No, Sookie reiterated it pointing out every man in the crowd who she caught staring. Some of them with Eric's hand around her waist didn't even have the decency to move away. And her tall suitor didn't seem to mind, what man wouldn't after all with such a woman on his arm.

"Dance with me?" he asked.

It wasn't really a dancing establishment with a bar in the center surrounded by chairs, couches, tables, and pool tables. Pam barely had time for a social life so this place was new to her, but Eric wanted to dance with her so she did despite the atmosphere.

She'd learned that he was on only child and grew up in a blue collar family. There was nothing he wanted for because his parent's were determined that he was going to do better than they did. And he didn't disappoint. He worked for himself and Bill was a freelance worker he occasionally contracted for jobs that he couldn't do on his own. When they met that afternoon they were in the middle of celebrating a finished project affording him a few months of downtime to enjoy life until starting his next project for a different client.

"Have you ever been married?" she asked.

He shook his head claiming, ignoring the cliché, that he hadn't found the right one yet.

"You believe in that nonsense?" she pulled back so she could read his expression even though she had been more than comfortable on his chest.

His head bounced unsurely until he decided, "I believe the way it's portrayed gives true love a bad name?"

"How so?"

"If don't think it'll be fireworks or an orchestra playing in the background when I find her. I probably won't even notice her until she catches my attention, much like how we met."

Pam force herself not to blush encouraging him to continue.

"I think if you're totally right for someone you'll clash, the chemistry is in the fighting," he stared at her meaningfully as they danced, "the rapport, the sex, feeling alive—you can't do that with someone you agree with all the time, or at least I can't, true love is the person you want to argue with for the rest of your life because they won't let you get away with anything."

"That's your definition of true love?"

"For me," he nods yes.

"So no one has ever made you feel alive?"

"I'm not interested in talking about the women I've dated," he pulled her closer sliding his hand on the small of her back. "I'd like to talk about what you were thinking wearing this dress—never wear a dress like that unless you're absolutely sure the man you're going out with doesn't have heart problems."

"This old thing?"

"I'd wager you could make a brown paper bag lingerie looking enticing Pam," he finished with a charming smile.

When the dance was done and Sookie said that she and Bill were leaving Pam gave her secretary a look that wasn't entirely scathing, but it held a measure of unpleasantness they'd continue at her office. When the other couple were gone it left her and her date to get to know each other more intimately until the executive was loathe to admit it was getting late and she needed to be up early tomorrow for a family gathering.

Eric understanding paid their bill and escorted her out the parking lot where they were parked. With less than an inch of space between them their shoulders brushed up against each other more than once prompting a furtive glance from them to the other. It was an easy silence on the way to her car. She opened the door and he stood on the other side making sure she got in safely.

"This was….fun," she informed.

"I have to agree, drive home safely," he brushed his lips softly on the side of the cheek wishing her a goodnight. When she was in her car and driving off she watched him from her rearview mirror as she waited for the street to clear long enough for her to make her turn.

"Eric Northman," she mused under her breath like a secret that she wanted to keep to herself.

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"What is that?" Pam's mother startled her out of her reverie.

Pam looked around sitting in the backyard under the umbrella watching her family play a game of tag football. Dirt, wasn't her thing and she stayed away from it as much as possible, a trait she must have inherited from her mother who sat alongside her watching the game. The executive had been lost in her thoughts when her mother caught her.

"What?" she frowned sipping her lemonade to dispel the embarrassment at being caught daydreaming.

Diana eyed her daughter suspiciously driven by an instinctive perception that informed her of the general happenings of her daughter's lives good or bad.

"Have you met someone?"

"Mother…"

"It's a harmless question darling," Diana drew closer. "Do I know him?"

"No," Pam answered clipped clapping at a touchdown her father made.

Diana glanced in the direction of her beaming husband returning his wave absently before interrogating her daughter further. "How long have you been dating."

"Not long enough," she answered meaningfully.

"Ok," her mother drew back into her seat, "after a decent amount of time I expect you'll introduce him to your family when you're ready," commented with restrained excitement.

Pam couldn't help the small smirk on her face she at her mother's antics. Who knows what was going on in her head right now or whenever she heard her youngest was doing something other than working. She knew the matriarch meant, but sometimes the woman could be overbearing to the point of exhaustion, which was why she rarely shared these kinds of details with her mother.

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Tara's got some competition….where's the fun in making it easy? Lol.


	9. Chapter 9

"Did you see that?"

Pam smiled adoringly at a nine year old ball of energy dirty in her torn shirt and ragged jeans, "I saw it all Taryn." The kid was hard to miss at an age where she did everything to the excess always wanting attention and never satisfied until she got it.

"Even my touchdown!"

"It was hard to miss," Pam admitted.

The girl went began retelling it anyway too excited about it and willing to relive it for the sake of more praise from her aunt. Jerry came up behind her with the rest of the family taking their seats in the chairs around the outside table thankful for the shade and cool lemonade.

"You all stink," Diana said getting up from her chair.

"That's the smell of victory, grandma!"

Diana shook her head at her granddaughter then at her husband who was most likely to blame for her exuberance. The man indulged the child at every whim and who could blame him when the child's energy and thirst for excitement and appetite for life was so contagious. Children kept them young, that's why she insisted on having more.

"I'll get some snacks," the matriarch left them to their trash talk as their adrenaline died down.

"You guys got off lucky," Nancy's husband said.

The game was three on three with handicaps on both sides, but everyone wanted Taryn on their team. She was a strategic advantage with her angelic face and her energy.

Pam's phone rang. Taryn's eyes immediately went to it watching her aunt grab while everyone else was more focused on the snacks her grandmother had prepared for them.

"Hello," Pam answered the phone.

"I didn't think you'd answer," Eric said on the other line.

She didn't expect him to call so soon. Getting up from her seat she moved away from her loud family for a quieter spot beside a bush of rose and her wooden gate that went around the whole backyard.

"I was going to leave a message," he finished unsurely.

"Well, you've got me," Pam said obviously shaking her head at her response.

"I do do I?" there was a hint of innuendo before the conversation got too personal too quick, "I was wondering if you like horses?"

"I don't have anything against the species if that's what you mean."

He chuckled, "I uh, I have a friend of a friend who owns a ranch in Conyers."

Pam nodded on the other end turning her back to her nosey mother who she guessed was sharing the new developments of her love life with the rest of her family who were noticeably quiet and sending furtive glances her way.

"Is there an invitation in this somewhere or are you bragging?"

"I wanted to know if your family thing extended to Sunday as well, if not, then how about we go for a ride. It's beautiful out there," he pitched.

Pam considered.

"Sure," she stated after short pause.

"Great," he answered back and in the short time it took for them to iron out the details Pam's face brightened with a smile on her lips everyone in her family noted. So, when she sat down she was greeted with a knowing silence that were all interested in the conversation that they knew had nothing to do with business.

"I wonder if he's cute," Nancy instigated ignoring Pam entirely addressing her mother.

"He's handsome," the older woman said assuredly, "Pam knows how to pick them remember that surgeon she dated?"

The conversation went on like this with well meaning laughter shared around the table irritating the blond and confusing Taryn, "Aunt Pam you have a boyfriend?"

The innocent answer embarrassed the executive and she tried not to show it.

"I have a friend who is a boy," she corrected.

The girl gave her a quizzical look because she didn't fully grasp the difference.

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Niall sat on Lafayette's couch. His usually wild hair was tamed in a pony tail with an earring in his left ear wearing a bright suit Lafayette cringed at when his visitor stepped over his threshold into his home. He drank his hosts offered drink also drinking in the surroundings of his new home. He admitted internally that his former soldier was doing well for himself in the human world albeit living off the spoils of war. He visited unannounced, but he wouldn't know it with how prepared the dark skinned fae was to see him. They talked nothing in the beginning flirting with an issue that they always flirted with until one of them decided that they had exceeded their limits of noncommittal pleasantries.

It was Niall's turn, "how is she?"

Lafayette wondered how to answer this question and why it was being asked. Tara had done a lot of their cause during the wars and then discarded her disregarded her loyalty and service when they discovered there was a part of her that wasn't entirely light fae. There was always an agenda if an elder like Niall made personal visits to one's home. It made Lafayette wary.

He chose his answer carefully, "she's doing better."

"Good," he nodded placing his drink down after taking two obligatory sips that were more for courtesy than thirst. "That's very good to hear."

Lafayette nodding waiting for the older fae to reveal the reason for his visit.

"You were always a sharp one you know that?" he read the distrust in Lafayette's eyes somewhat regretting the decision's that put the distrust there.

"You didn't come just to shoot the shit," the dark skinned fae encouraged him to hurry up with the purpose of his visit. "What do you want?"

"I want Tara."

"No."

He sighed knowing that this would be difficult.

"It's time you come back too," his voice grew stern willing to enforce his authority if he needed to. Tara he could live without, but Lafayette, he had a future amongst his people and it was being wasted as his cousin's companion.

"With all due respect," Lafayette remembered his place, "I decline."

"You have every right to refuse," he sighed, "and I have every right to ignore that refusal," Niall stood. "I expect you back home by the end of the week," he wouldn't be denied. "Do what you need to do, say what the goodbye's you need to say," he acknowledged that this was a particularly hard decision for Lafayette and he wasn't giving him a choice.

"I can't do that."

"I don't usually need to throw my weight around Lafayette. You may have resigned from a prestigious position, but you are still a subject in my kingdom," he answered gruffly, "I didn't have to come here myself. I don't have to explain myself. But I'm a fae that remembers the good you've done." He sighed.

The younger fae briefly entertained asking why, but it wouldn't make much of a difference.

The door opened and Tara could be heard coming in. She spent the evening in her driver's seat and her body ached because she hadn't searched for help and being drunk was more preferable to dealing with people.

Niall grew tense and his stance became alert but he never took his eyes off Lafayette. Lafayette observed it with resentment and stood in between them when Tara discovered they had company and who that company was. Her shoulder tensed as well and two quick steps then a stop and she was in the room with the other two.

"Niall," she greeted coldly.

The old man didn't answer her back for a long time until he replied, "Tara."

Looking between her cousin and the older man she the tension was palpable and she wondered what the old man had said or mostly likely asked to create such deep frowns on her cousin's forehead. They were always asking and when they didn't get what they wanted they ordered which left little choice for the person they were ordering. Lafayette didn't like his freedoms taken away anymore than she did.

"You alright?" she asked her cousin ignoring the king.

"We were catching up," Nail answered for him, "discussing his place among his people."

Lafayette clenched his jaw, but he said nothing.

"You've made a fine home for yourself Tara," he gestured to the apartment, "a very fine home," he wanted to make it clear that the invitation for Lafayette only included Lafayette if he wouldn't give Tara up willingly. There seemed to be nothing left to say and pleasantries would have been too forced for this crowd and their history. The fae king showed himself out leaving the other staring ominously at the empty space his body vacated.

Tara broke the silence, "When do you leave?"

"By the end of the week."

"Another war?" Tara asked barely withholding her excitement.

Lafayette hid his disappointment hearing her eagerness to get into a fight, "aren't you tired of those. It looks like you've been through enough," he nodded toward her bruised face.

"Old habits," she stated not sharing that she didn't fight back.

"Maybe there's something brewing, but I think it's all political," he answered honestly.

Plopping in the chair she drummed her fingers on the chair arm breathing in deeply, "I should come with you."

"He wants you to," Lafayette regretted that their peace would be cut short. He was enjoying his exile even if it were with humans. "You want me to do something about that?"

"No," Tara considered, "if he wants me back that means he'll pardon me?"

Lafayette would have liked to believe after all these years his heart had softened and he finally thought for himself in the simple matter of Tara, but he wasn't sure what Niall was up to. Whatever the fae world had in store for them it meant more pain for Tara and he most of all thought this exile was best for her. The human world didn't know what she was so they wouldn't shun her. They wouldn't look at her oddly and lower their voices to a murmur when she entered the room. She was safe here he knew despite the hell she put herself through to end up with a bruised face like the one she wore now.

"Want me to do something about that?" he ignored the question and touched her cheek without her permission.

The scars and the swelling were gone and all that were left were the dry crust of blood on her cheek and collar as a keepsake of her adventure.

"You're staying here," he informed her.

"Bullshit I got your back."

"This ain't a discussion."

Tara's jaw clenched. Headstrong and with a reputation for being unpredictable and wild there was only on fae who had influence over her and he was standing over her, never shedding the robe of big brother and protector. She knew she should feel grateful that he cared, but on instinct she lurched back in an internal withdrawal that painted her face cold when she heard his answer. Common sense told her he was protecting her, but the paranoid part of her brain read that he tired of being her babysitter.

She stomped off to her bedroom slamming the door like a spoiled child who'd just been denied a trip to the store or candy. She'd been denied home.

Her thoughts turned dark when she was angry. Sometimes she'd black out and wake up in a matter of minutes to carnage and suffering she'd caused in a temporary bout of insane rage. Last night when that drunk was hitting her she felt she needed to feel alive and the outcome of that fight had been contained, because she could have stopped him at any time. This rage she felt now as she paced her room and threw her jacket over a chair, this rage was deadly and potentially fatal to whoever was near her. Her fist clenched and it had become a viable idea hitting the wall until the wall gave or she broke her hand, either way something would be broken and it would satisfy her urge to break something.


	10. Chapter 10

I didn't like chapter 10 so I've changed it (I thought of something better) and I've added more to chapter 9 to help build the story. I apologize for the lack of posting, but reality happens and working the hours I work lately has been kicking my ass.

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Monday morning was a beautiful day and it would have been better if Taryn wasn't stuck inside with the rest of her class while the other classes were having recess. When there was one bad seed in the bunch that loved drawing pictures of their Mrs. Melbourne their teacher with wild hair and rabid eyes and crooked teeth with monster misspelled underneath it was a contained event. When he started passing it around and eventually accepted a dare to tape it to the board for her to see when she walked in from procuring more supplies for a craft project then it became a monumental event that. And it wasn't cool to snitch. So while everyone knew who it was and without being given an anonymous chance to share with the teacher the real culprit, Taryn and her class were punished with silent lunch and no outside privileges. They were wasting away inside doing work when they'd much rather be kicking up dust and collecting sweat.

Mrs. Melbourne had plenty of busy work to fill the forty five minutes of play they were usually scheduled.

Taryn dutifully drew lines from one word to the corresponding picture looking over her shoulder to Jack the troublemaker occasionally. The sandy haired boy with small teeth and large eyes was the reason they were all sitting there in silence. He did bad things because he could and he mostly got away with it because he was bigger and meaner than the rest of their class. No one wanted to get on his bad side. One kid that snitched on him found sand in his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he ate a bite. And Jack wasn't afraid to hit girls because he'd tripped a freckled faced girl named Julie in the hallway on the way to class and laughed when she lost her tooth.

Her mother constantly warned her about the bad men in her life, which made her curious about the bad boys. Did they eventually become bad men? She didn't know because she was becoming even more curious about things like that and asking so many queries on a plethora of subjects her mother often got irritated from her barrage of questions. There was so much in this world to know and puzzles like Jack the troublemaker that bothered most of all.

She turned to look over her shoulder again and this time Jack's hazel eyes were waiting. His red lips were pursed in a scowl and his cheeks were red like he was angry. She turned away quickly and then looked around the room, but no one had noticed. Their teacher was doing work as well writing quickly and with a lot of focus, she could raise her hand, but she wouldn't be noticed. Knowing that it was against the rules she decided to head over to her teacher's desk to get her attention.

"Mrs. Melbourne, may I go to the bathroom?"

The oval faced teacher with her hair in a signature hairstyle, a bun with tendrils falling over her ear and school bus earrings looked up. "Taryn what are you doing out of your seat?"

The girl explained that she needed to go the bathroom and then asked again since she wasn't answered the first time.

"Go back to your seat and raise your hand," the woman said slowly.

Taryn becoming frustrated turned on her heal walking awkwardly as she returned to her seat the need becoming urgent unexpectedly. She raised her hand.

"Yes, Taryn," her teacher acknowledged the hand.

The girl repeated her question for a third time.

"You may," Mrs. Melbourne gave her permission to go.

She took the pass to the bathroom walking fast to the girl's restroom. She didn't worry about Jack's gaze because she didn't see him glaring at him nor did she hear him ask Mrs. Melbourne to go to the bathroom as well and the teacher acquiesce giving him the second hall pass. When she was finished washing her hands she began drying them with a paper towel stopped in her tracks by the fat hand of a bully pushing her back inside. The boy's bathroom and the girls were right across from each other. Jack must have been waiting for her.

"Where you going stupid?"

Rage and panic warred within her, but fear was clearly written all over her face.

"I'm telling," she said as a comeback. "You can't be in here," trying to move by him and retreat to class. Where was a teacher?

He shoved her.

"Stop hitting me," tears began to collect and fall at the corner of her eyes inspiring him to call her more names and like 'stupid' and 'crybaby'. "Leave me alone," she screamed and he covered her mouth with his hand.

"Shut up," he whispered. If he got caught in the girl's bathroom he'd be in trouble. And he'd only wanted to scare her into remaining quiet. He knew that she was a sweet girl that teachers loved and who the Mrs. Melbourne would listen to and believe if she fingered Jack as the one who drew the picture. He didn't like getting in trouble. And she didn't like the looks she was giving him in class, in fact when she stood up to go to the teacher's desk he thought Taryn was about to tell on him. He got scared and he didn't like the feeling. More than relieved to hear her ask to go to the bathroom he took this as his chance to follow her to tell her don't tell on him in the only way he knew how, by force.

Taryn did the opposite of what he asked. She panicked pushing him away only to feel a surge of energy shoot through her and with a shove the boy was slammed to the wall and knocked unconscious. Taryn's hand was glowing and she stared at the alien phenomenon with awe and trepidation. What just happened? What did she do?

Her worry mounted when she heard the footsteps hurry in their direction. She was in trouble now her tears fell in earnest.

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In a relatively calm repose the dark skinned fae stared at her ceiling enjoying the throbbing in her hand more than she should. Pain always made her feel alive and normal; this she could share with the rest of the world even the fae world. She felt out of place when wasn't feeling it because it brought back memories of her torture. The things they had done to her, she shuddered, the horrors she witnessed at the hands of sadists she was on the verge of drowning in a dark place with the light of dawn showering her with warmth when she shot up from the bed and to look around the room.

She studied her surroundings and then focused on the burst of energy she felt seconds before. Staying still she attempted to recover where it came from discerning that it wasn't dark fae only to tap into the feelings of fear, worry, and confusion. Getting to her feet she collected the jacket she threw off unceremoniously startled by her reaction and more surprised how instinctive the fun of the hunt came to her. Before her exile and in the midst of her torture they experimented on her. Constantly used for spells and potions she was a mixture of good and evil and several other things that dwelled inside her scratching at the surface of her consciousness waiting to be let out to play. Much of the damage was on the exterior which healed quite quickly and easily under the care of the right fae. But she couldn't undo the things she saw or felt. It's inherent in all fae to sense their kind, but Tara's captors decided they wanted to go a step further and bind her to an unlucky man who went by Lennox. She didn't know his real name—she hadn't cared. The game was that she would feel what he felt that she would know his thoughts. Lennox was dark fae and with equally questionable morals as the people who kept her under lock and key. She was a prisoner in every sense of the word knowing Lennox in ways she wished she didn't feeling his urges as if they were her own and the satisfaction of sating those urges at the expense of someone who was just like her—a prisoner. This was the part of her that scared her people to be bound and thoroughly influenced by his evil was a nightmarish diet that concerned fae like Niall. Could she be trusted? Lafayette trusted her for some strange reason, but the rest of her clan wasn't as kind quickly forgetting her sacrifices. And now Lennox was back, it was him, and then she knew it wasn't because she'd killed him not long after Lafayette rescued her.

She drove as fast as she could without worry of losing the scent of the energy. It wasn't Lennox, but it drew her like a pull she couldn't escape while she tried to make sense of the connection. She remembered the day well when she found Lennox easily. Surely he knew she was coming after him when she found him shacked up in an out of the way cottage in Wisconsin. Which is most likely why he left her a gift of bodies to maneuver through before she found him in the basement of a cottage finishing off one last 'masterpiece' an old woman who was as random as the rest of the poor souls who crossed his path.

"You'll never be free of me," he gloated.

The incorporeal implications of his threat Tara could live with especially if she conditioned herself to deal with the nightmares. She wanted him dead—she wanted to stop feeling him because discerning hers and his was becoming a problem that resulted in her questioning her own reactions to his crimes. He was a menace in the fae world mostly contracted by the dark fae on desperate occasions called upon by an elder or two discreetly to deal with the heinous jobs that wouldn't fair well if it ever got out the light could match the dark's ruthlessness.

Tara knew she wouldn't be rid of him entirely when he was dead, but she killed him anyway on principle. Suddenly the out of the way cottage in Wisconsin was a godsend for her to realize the measure of her mercilessness. It took three days for her to get bored with him and she knew Lafayette still didn't forgive her for telling him what happened those three days in gory details when he made the mistake of asking her when she returned. He'd been easy to worry those first weeks after her return sensing the change in her before everyone else who was dazzled by the return of the hero and Tara was fine with letting them blindly welcome her. The lie gave her the freedom to explore her darker fae which she realized she enjoyed more than she probably should. Not to say the fae were totally devote to peace when they could get their hands dirty. It was the fact that they lived by a code and lines that weren't allowed be crossed were extremely hazy in the days leading up to her exile by Niall under his reservations and the advisement of his elders. It began with Lennox unfortunately it didn't end there years later which had her curiously sitting in the guest parking lot of a elementary school.


	11. Chapter 11

**BEFORE YOU READ THIS RETURN TO CHAPTER 10**….and then this chapter will make sense.

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Taryn hid in the bathroom standing on top of the stool when she heard the footsteps of a teacher turn into more than one and then there was a small crowd gathered outside of the bathroom to figure out what had happened to Jack. Tears streaming down her face she pressed her lips together hoping no one heard her or investigated further.

On the other side of the hall in the office Tara walked into the empty office stopping at a small kiosk where she could sign in as a visitor. Taking her time to type a random name to choose a random teacher she began to roam the halls in the direction of where she felt the energy that had inspired her impromptu hunt. She rounded a corner in the maze of mirror hallways donning pictures of colored letters of small bios and pictures of overly elated children with uneven teeth. This was school. How much of this thing they called a school system educated these children about the real world and how much of it was designed to shield them from it. The fae almost rounded a corner when she heard the scratch of a walkie talkie and a security guard being called to assist them.

Leaning her shoulder against the wall she listened to voices contemplating what could happen and then the discovery of a little girl. From what she could tell without looking a boy was found knocked unconscious in the entranceway of the girl's bathroom. Holding her judgment's she heard them as they rounded the corner she was leaning against to listen to the trouble. She moved quickly enough to disappear in an empty classroom left open seeing a teacher with his back to her sneaking a cigarette. The boy was wailing now conscious and in pain, but that's all he was good for crying, he either couldn't get out what happened or chose not to volunteer it. In any case Tara hadn't come for the wailing boy leaving the classroom and the teacher to his cigarette shutting the door softly.

The children's bathroom didn't have a door, just a small hallway with several stalls that were partially closed. She walked to the other side of the bathroom sensing that whatever had brought her here was inside the middle stall. Wary of what she might find she pushed on it half surprised it wasn't latched and even more surprised when she discovered the teary eyed girl on the other side. She lurched back when she saw Tara—she didn't recognize her—the only thing that registered was that she was an adult and she assumed she must have known what she'd done.

"I didn't mean to do it," she tried to explain. The reasons why whirring around in her hair she didn't voice because it might get her in more trouble then she wanted to be in.

Tara stepped back and dropping the hand that was paralyzed on the smooth surfaces of the stall door.

"What's your name?"

The nine year old didn't think anything of the question or the fact that she was talking to a stranger so she answered it.

Tara struggled to figure out what this meant, but she already had a strong idea this young girl had no idea what she was.

"I'm Tara," she introduced herself hoping the girl couldn't sense her nervousness.

"Am I in trouble?"

"No."

They didn't have much time. The girl's teacher whoever she was would be worried and come looking for her and eventually. Then there was a matter of the crying boy in the office and explaining things to the school. It was best if the girl hadn't been there hadn't seen a thing, so Tara gave her Taryn her first crash course in telling a feasible lie. The girl nodded her head that she understood and Tara asked her to repeat it at least once for the girl to make the lie her own.

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Pam dreaded staff meetings when Russell wasn't on his best behavior. Something personal was always just beneath the surface and of all the people he wanted to confide in he chose Pam. So, when everyone rose from their leather seats practically speeding out of the office feeling the remnants of their boss's bad mood denting their egos to start from scratch on every idea he didn't eviscerate and rename as terrible. The only person who was left was a blond in a purple blouse and black pants with purple heels tapping the floor.

"He's a bitch," Russell said aggravated leaning his head back in his chair holding his hands over his face. "And I hate him."

Lafayette's confession from the night Russell pulled her along as his wing woman rang in her head and she wondered if she should just share the whole diabolical plan.

"I don't know what he wants from me," Russell continued.

Pam knew.

"He's hot then cold and the whole time I think he's stringing me along with some bigger picture he's got in his head."

The blond still hadn't opened his mouth to speak allowing him all the time he needed to vent his frustrations regaling him about this Lafayette person he claims is just a friend, but his suspicions tell him otherwise. And when he finally caught his breath and moved close enough for her to inhale his pleasant cologne on the side of the table he sat looking down on her with a curious glint in his eye she didn't trust.

"And I have to hear through the grapevine," he protecting his source which he knew Pam would mostly likely and correctly deduce as Sookie, "that you've dived back into the dating pool."

"You know I don't date," her eyes retreated to her notes as her hands needlessly straightened her folder, "I'm dedicated to my work."

"My ass, when do I get to meet prince charming that's got you defrosting as we speak."

"I haven't subjected him to my family what makes you think I'd throw him to you?"

"Because I'll be nice."

Blue glared disbelieving and Russell admitted that he might have been overstating. "Lets go on a double date I can size him up and a guarantee of a little fun."

"That doesn't sound in the least bit tempting."

"I will fire you if you don't introduce me to your young man."

Pam stood done entertaining Russell, "no you won't."

"Fine," he jumped off the table coming round to meet her at the door and escort her to her office. In the elevator he began to speak freely again, "please."

Startled by the request Pam looked at him strangely, wondering if he'd even said it because his face hadn't moved since she heard the request staring blankly at the steel doors.

"Pardon."

"You heard me and don't make me say it again. Raphael has become insufferable, he wants us to enjoy the company of another couple and since I can't stand couples you and your boy toy will do."

"He's not a boy toy."

"Your whatever," he acquiesced, "because I refuse to believe everything I hear."

Pam was alert, "what did you hear?"

"Don't worry yourself with rumors hon," he smirked knowingly, "I take those things as a grain of salt because I think it's too early to the throwing around the 'l' word."

"What?"

He stepped off the elevator and Pam almost forgetting to step out threw her arm to the door so it wouldn't close eventually catching up.

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Tara followed Taryn's routine for three days before she saw an opening where she could insinuate herself in the girl's life. The excitement of a mission thrilled her, but like a trained soldier it was tempered via discipline and the objective to find answers. Taryn was nine year old her parents were Nancy and Ryan Flake they lived in a ranch style home in Snellville in a small residential area with homes with subtle differences, but at the heart were as homey and similar as any uninspiring block that catered to a family friendly community.

It started with a morning jog. Nancy, Taryn's mother ran every morning at five around the block then returned in time to get her daughter up and drive her to school. On Wednesday Tara introduced herself as their new temporary neighbor because the Sanderson's, on vacation, had entrusted her services for the month they would be gone. Nancy who had never been that curious about her older neighbors didn't question Tara's story and had jumped at the chance to have coffee with her new 'neighbor'. Tara knew almost everything about the woman's life in one afternoon, but nothing as of yet clued her into the little girl's connection with Lennox. Wednesday night, aware that Nancy's husband left very early for work, Tara tampered with the housewife's car ready to volunteer to give them a ride to her daughter's school since she was headed out for early errands.

"I don't want to be any trouble," she stated willing to take the stranger's hospitality only after she was sure the dark skinned woman wouldn't mind.

Nancy hurriedly introduced Tara as their neighbor needlessly to the little girl, who remembered Tara from a few days earlier.

"Hey kid," Tara spoke when Nancy ran back in the house to get her purse.

"You were at my school," she stated.

"Yea, and how about we keep that between us huh?"

The girl didn't answer her distrust was palpable and the fae considered what she could do to correct it.

Tara looked to the house then crouched in front of the child, "your special and I'm special too," she lifted up her hand displaying and impressive, but small glowing ball.

Taryn's eyes widened and her mouth dropped in shock, "special people stick together," she closed her hand when she heard the front door slam.

"Ready," Nancy breathed.

Rising to her feet Tara opened the door for the quiet little girl who jumped in as her mother took the passenger seat. When Tara got in for the fifth time she thanked Tara again for her kindness.

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funny note: I thought I was losing my touch since no one hadn't really commented on my new chapter when in fact I hadn't gone any further than submitting it to the doc manager...my bad...


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you nervous?" The blond couple walked in unison on the cement.

"That's the fifth time you've asked me since I picked you up," Pam's date didn't sound tired of the inquiry he was just making an observation.

Pam nodded pathetically admitting, "I'm nervous."

Eric gave her and understanding smile sliding his hands along her waist as they walked the short distance to Pam's parent's front door from Eric's car. "It'll be fine," he assured her, "I'm fully capable of a little charm now and then."

He didn't know what he was getting into and she gave him a look that impressed as much. However the look was short lived when the door was thrust open revealing a smiling older couple. The matriarch ushered Eric in claiming his arm taking it upon her to make the introductions leaving father and daughter in the doorway to watch their retreating backs.

"What have I done?" she mused to her father.

"Given your mother a reason to live it seems," he joked shutting the door behind him then following Pam to the rest of the family.

When the duo rounded the corner her mother and sisters were swarmed around Eric like a pack of ravenous wolves hungry for details. He fielded questions like he'd been born for this moment and she liked to take a little credit for his ease because she did warn him about her zealous family.

Her father caught her attention pulling her away to the kitchen where he could have some one on one time with his daughter. They spent less time than he liked together these last few months and he felt the need to reconnect. He poured himself and corked the bottle when his daughter declined a glass of red wine.

"How have you been?"

Pam picked at the bowl of fruit on the island counter top. She loved grapes especially red. "Tired, who knew how exhausting it would be balancing a work life and a love life?"

"You know, if it's becoming too much I say dump the job and be happy."

Pam eyed her father strangely. Jerry wasn't afraid to say what was on his mind. And on several occasions he explained he worried over Pam's inclination to spend most of her time working. She always smiled away his concern placating him with a promise to do change her hours and come around more often. But, those were empty promises it seemed, that is until Eric came into her life. He wouldn't be as easily swayed as a placating excuse and she didn't mind his aggressive approach to force her to have fun. This was his idea tonight and somehow she agreed.

"How have you been?" Pam asked her father who swallowed his glass in a gulp and reached for the bottle to refill.

"As good as these old bones will allow your old man to feel."

"You're not old."

"I'm not your mother," he chuckled, "those types of compliments won't go to my head and it sure as hell won't hurt my feelings if you agree with me."

Pam admired her father's honesty and self assuredness. Two prime reasons why she latched onto her father in her younger as opposed to her sisters who took after their mother more.

"Might as well check on your friend," he could never bring himself to call any of his daughters' dates' boyfriends. They remained 'friends' until the day they said "I do".

On their out of the kitchen Diana was on her way in using this as the perfect time to grab Pam by the arm explaining vaguely about getting the roast ready. Jerry didn't question it aware what Pam was in for giving her a half pained half amused look before he skirted to safety.

"Where did you say you met him again?"

"I didn't," Pam responded, not because she was being difficult, but because she just never mentioned it.

The smell of the tender meat filled the kitchen and Pam could imagine how wonderful the meal was going to taste. She heard her mother close the oven door and pound on the oven clicking buttons. When she was finished the matriarch turned on her daughter and questioned, "Where did you meet him?"

"A restaurant."

Diana's eyes narrowed. Her daughter had no flare for telling a story and something could be animated and fun wasn't with her factual recollection. Sometimes she wished her daughter lied to keep her life more interesting instead of the boring truth that it was filled with work. At least this Eric person was a step in the right direction. He was charming, funny, and handsome—the perfect catch on the surface. Though, there was still plenty of night left before she committed to one conclusion.

"I like him, so far."

"So do I, so far," Pam mimicked her mother's apprehensive tone.

"But you should keep your options open."

Pam forced stopped herself from rolling her eyes, "mom, I just started dating again."

"Do you buy the first jacket that fits or do you take your time to shop for the right jacket that fits and matches your eyes."

"Mother…"

The matriarch continued as if her daughter hadn't been speaking at all, "I want you to have fun, take a few irresponsible risks playing the field." She gestured to the door, "he's not going anywhere."

Thankfully the kitchen door swung open and Nancy's husband peaking in to ask about the roast. Pam barely paid him any mind and Diana appeased him with, "dinner will be ready soon."

With oven mitts on Diana retrieved the roasts with the door swinging to a stop from where their visitor left. The blond considered the image of her mother as a housewife and then she became suddenly curious about the woman before her father put a ring on her finger.

"Dinner's ready," the older woman sang proudly while Pam held the door open for her t pass through.

"Saved you a seat," Eric smiled to her pulling her chair out for the empty chair. Pam thanked him needlessly then surveyed the room noticing something amiss, "where's Taryn?"

Nancy replied, "She wasn't feeling well so she stayed home."

"With who?" Pam was genuinely worried about her only niece. Both parents were here and Nancy never let them forget how hard it was to get a babysitter most nights.

"No, we have a new neighbor, Taryn adores her, and she volunteered."

Pam didn't like the sound of this, "you left my niece with a practical stranger."

"I've got her number if you want to check on my daughter," Nancy's tone was becoming irritated. Testily she dialed handing Pam the phone.

A giggling child answered, "Hello?"

Getting up from the table she took the call in the next room. Her eyes were glued to a family portrait when they were younger. The picture didn't denote the drama that occurred for most of the day leading up to their session. Her mother had insisted and no one at that time could bend her iron will. So they wore what she picked out for them specifically even her father wearing a purple bow tie he vocally disliked.

"Hey baby," Pam smiled into the phone.

"Aunt Pam," her voice lowered as if she was talking to someone else, "it's my aunt Pam."

"How are you feeling sweetheart?"

The girl gave her staged cough suddenly remembering to sound pathetic, "bad."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the already suspicious aunt responded, "how about I come over after to dinner and check in on you? How's that sound?"

"I might be sleep."

"How about I still come by anyway?" There was silence on the other end before she heard the child agree. "Good, I love you, and I hope you feel better."


End file.
